


Plantes Macabres

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-04
Updated: 2011-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-16 02:30:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee





	Plantes Macabres

"I'm sorry I don't have better news for you, Neville," Harry said, placing the delicate cup in the saucer. Neville smiled to himself and stared down at his pudgy finger as he drew circles around the rim of his own cup.

"It's all right, Harry. It's been over a year since she disappeared. I don't doubt that she died in the final battle. We have nothing to fear from Bellatrix Lestrange, I assure you."

"Still, when I think of what she did to your parents, your gran, Colin… Just let us put some Aurors outside, for your protection. You won't even notice they're here."

"Harry," Neville said in a gentle, but firm tone. "Please don't worry about me. I'm no longer a hopeless child. No one can get through my wards. Not even _she_ could."

Harry suppressed a sigh. He and the others had been trying to convince Neville to be careful and take more protective measures for months. As long as Bellatrix Lestrange was at large, no one was safe. Neville was stubborn in his own way, however. Quiet, shy even, but implacable.

He stood and wandered around the conservatory as Neville leaned back in the wicker chair and sipped his tea.

"It's amazing what you've done here," he said, slapping at a Creeping Tom that had started to wiggle its way under the sleeve of his robes. "I don't recognise half of these plants."

"Thank you. I'm quite proud of it, actually. I have some fine specimens here. I have already patented several hybrids."

"What's this?" Harry asked, pointing at a strange black and white flower that swayed gently back and forth, as if it were following his every move. He felt a chill run down his spine.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Neville's face lit up. He stood and crossed the room to join Harry in front of the exquisite plant. As he reached out a hand to stroke one of its leaves, the plant shuddered and seemed to try to move away. "I call it 'La Belle Guerrière' - the beautiful warrior."

Harry heard a strange buzzing in his head and he suddenly had the feeling that he was missing something important. Just as quickly, however, the feeling passed.

"That's… that's a whimsical name."

Neville shrugged, but he didn't take his eyes from the plant. His eyes had an eerie gleam as he stroked its trembling stem and he seemed more alive than he had in a very long time.

"Here," he said suddenly, snatching up a large pair of garden shears from the table. "Why don't you take a cutting with you?" He seemed to smile almost cruelly as he snapped off one of the large flowers near the bottom of the step with a vicious swipe of the shears. Harry gasped as a strange sensation - almost like a silent scream - echoed in his head.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Neville asked in a concerned tone. Harry's eyes widened in horror as Neville wiped the blood from the blade with his handkerchief. He shook his head. How silly of him. What looked like blood was nothing more than the plant's own odd, red sap.

"Harry?"

"Oh, sorry. Just wool-gathering," Harry said with an apologetic smile. "Look, I have to get back to the Ministry. If you need anything, don't hesitate to send me an owl."

"I won't." Neville finished wrapping the flower and handed it to him. Harry's skin crawled as he took it. 'What on earth is wrong with me today?' he wondered, shaking his head.

"And if I do happen to hear from Bellatrix, you'll be the first to know."

"Thanks," Harry said, shaking Neville's hand. At the door, he turned and looked back at Neville. The other man was lost in thought, stroking the plant and crooning to it softly.


End file.
